She Will Wait
by Child at Heart Forever
Summary: When would it be that she could break out of the prison that was her mind, and go back to being who she used to be? Was it even possible? As it was now, she had changed, without knowing whether she'd be able to change back…as the world needed time to heal, so did she...


**So, uh...this is my first venture into the Korra section, and this isn't so much a "story" as it is an "epic poem consisting of intentional repetition and storylike elements". But with Book 4 looking almost entirely ambiguous...I kinda had to do the same with Korra's circumstances and it ended up kinda poetic. xD**

**But MAN, that finale...! It was _brilliant_, but hours after watching it I'm still brooding over its bittersweetness! Because of that, I just HAD to do something to commemorate it...and I didn't have time to draw anything. So, with regards to the fact that _this contains spoilers for the Season 3 finale_ (which you must watch immediately if you haven't), I hope you read on and enjoy. ^^**

* * *

~She Will Wait~

_She waits. It's all she can do._

Most of her time was spent staring out the window, watching the world go by and life dancing in the wind. The world that, in the process of healing itself, was also steadily falling apart…which was precisely how she felt. She bet that Aang never felt like that, even in his lowest points.

Tenzin tried to explain to her the story of how his father had been zapped in the back by a bolt of lightning, his life only spared by a miraculous combination of spirit water and the healing abilities of his beloved. Tenzin elaborated that Aang hadn't bounced back either- after weeks of rest, he still hadn't been at full strength to do much of anything. But Aang had desperately wanted to do something, fighting to get back to the Earth Kingdom the moment he realized what had happened to him.

Yet Aang hadn't been crippled indefinitely.

They'd both nearly died fighting oppression and overthrowing those who'd brought ruin to Ba Sing Se, but Aang woke up with only scars and a bruised spirit; she was visibly unscathed, but her soul and mind had been shredded to tethers, and she couldn't do anything about it if she wanted to. Metalloid poison had robbed her of the freedom to move physically, and to be moved emotionally.

She expressed that the world was so dangerously out of balance, and that no matter what she tried, she couldn't bring it back together. Tenzin had vowed that he and the other Air Nomads would help however they could, whenever they could, and while she greatly appreciated it, she couldn't bring herself to tell him so. Her mouth- _her voice_ hadn't been paralyzed, but the despairingly deep depression she'd been in inhibited her enthusiasm. Understanding that, Tenzin caved in and hugged her softly, sensitive to the fact that the hot-blooded and headstrong Avatar he'd been given to train in the ways of the free and uplifted Air Nomads…had been reduced to just the complete opposite.

_But as he turns to leave to lead his Air Nomads into a new age, she waits._

. . .

_She waits. It's cold, and she can't reach the blankets on the shelf by herself._

Ikki and Meelo happened to glide by the door and catch her hopelessly shivering. Their bickering about being stuck at the temple while their sister ventured out into the world was abruptly cut off at seeing the Avatar suffering. Ikki instantly twirled in and blew the blanket off the shelf; Meelo sprang forward and draped it over her, going off on a tangent about how the blanket was made of a platypus bear hide that "Uncle Bumi had ripped right off its back in an arm wrestling match".

She was amused by the story, and touched by their kindness, but with eyes a dull blue and the shadowy circles around them growing darker, she merely nodded, barely gifting them with a sign of acknowledgement. Meelo frowned, arms left hanging in the air after the climax of his story, not fully understanding her state of mind. Ikki, with damp eyes, simply led her younger brother away. Ikki gave her a calm goodbye, before leaving the room sadder than before. Ikki looked behind her one more time, wondering what happened to the Avatar that had burned down an ancient training machine out of anger? The Avatar that blushed madly at the mention of her crush and earthbended at the two young airbenders? The Avatar that had a little too much fun using her Avatar State to win a race against a trio of kids?

What had happened to the Avatar that had felt something; _anything_?

Ikki couldn't expect her to be up to snuff right off the bat…but Ikki missed her friend, and dearly wanted her to come back. She could see that in Ikki's eyes, and while he may not have understood entirely, she could tell that Meelo had felt the same way, but didn't have the words for it…she wanted to apologize, but she didn't have the strength for that….

_As they run off to see what the rest of the day has in store for them, she waits._

. . .

_She waits. It's too quiet, and she's bored._

Thankfully Bolin walked in, bright and chipper as always with Pabu on his right shoulder, chittering away with equal zeal. He was such a gossip, telling her all of what had traversed that day; the mishaps at his brother's job, a particularly productive day for Asami, and he himself teaching Pabu a new trick. A visit to his grandmother and his family had also occurred, which included several shenanigans with his cousins, and she regretted getting him started on his latest date with Opal…apparently it had ended with his hair "windblown", though the story behind it was not anything related to Opal, strangely enough.

Bolin stopped ranting at some point, noticing the insipidness in her eyes. He snapped his fingers as he produced a Pai Sho board, eagerly setting it up to play a few rounds with her. Even though he lost consistently –whether it was due to his bad skill or letting her win was never made clear- Bolin remained optimistic, claiming he'd win the next one and then never doing so. He cracked jokes, looked back on good times, sang dangerously off-key songs, and simply tried to get her to crack even the slightest of smiles…but she remained indifferent, making a move on the Pai Sho board that allowed Bolin a victory.

Bolin decided that they'd had enough games for the day, promising to come back tomorrow as always. As he packed up the board and all his pieces, Bolin sniffled, his mind drifting back to simpler times when she was all he ever thought about. He remembered the rose and cupcake he bought her with his meager savings, the date they went on at Harmony Tower, and the flowers he'd brought later…she may not have returned his affections, but she'd still been so much fun to be with; she had air in her laugh, spirit in her eyes, and Bolin didn't want that to ever change.

He just wanted her to be herself again.

_As he holds in his manly tears and stumbles out the door, proceeding to bawl in the hallway, she waits._

. . .

_She waits. It's the middle of the night, and sleep is impossible. Morning needs to come soon. _

There were footsteps outside her door, only caught because she'd been lying uncomfortably in bed with bloodshot eyes. Her head tilted slightly to gaze at the rays of light seeping through the ajar door, only to find her parents taking a midnight peek into her room. Swallowing a yawn, she laid back down, pretending to be asleep. They always nagged her about needing her rest…

They came in as one, her mother clutching at her father's chest as they entered. They stopped at the edge of their daughter's bed, taking in the serene grace of her still form. Senna became misty eyed as she watched, knowing how torn up inside her daughter was. Tonraq, though stoic, was feeling even worse, after having his daughter nearly die within his arms and now having to see her like this.

He'd seen the battle first hand; her flying about in the air with glowing eyes and uncontrollable pain and fury…things only there to keep her alive. Zaheer had been relentless in his retaliation, and it pained Tonraq to look back and think of all that he'd tried to do, fighting alongside his daughter as she was bound in chains…he'd missed his chance to fully finish off Zaheer, only serving to prolong the poison's damage. As a father, he couldn't help but feel responsible…

…but also as a father, he couldn't help but feel proud.

Senna kneeled over and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her daughter's face, just as Tonraq stepped closer and delicately put a hand to her cheek as he used his free one to grip one of her hands. He whispered to her his pride and his permanent unconditional love for her. Hoping that it reached her somewhere in her dreams, and that it'd be enough to pull her out of her dark depression. Both he and his wife could recall the day the White Lotus arrived at their house, seeking the Avatar. They remembered how_ excited _she was to demonstrate her supreme mastery over three of the elements.

She was proud to demonstrate that the Avatar was HER…but now, after being put through the wringer so many times –losing her bending, losing connection to her past lives, and losing the ability to move on her own, however temporary- …she really didn't want that anymore.

She mumbled in her sleep about how she was still the worst Avatar ever, with Senna leaning in to assure her that no Avatar was perfect- not even Aang, as iconic as he was. To Senna and Tonraq, she had never failed- she proved her worth as the Avatar in every action she took, no matter what the repercussions.

They left her with a verbal reprise of their unconditional love for her, calmly shutting the door as they departed.

_As a tear streaks down her face, having not been asleep and having heard every word, she waits. _

. . .

_She waits. It's a day where the pain is almost unbearable._

She couldn't even get up to stretch or walk -not yet, at least- so she was forced to sit and endure the agony with nowhere to go. She stared bleakly out the window at the noon sky where a spiritual bunny flounced about in the air, trying to show her that there was still peace in the world. As she watched with subdued fascination, there was a knock on her door.

The light knock was Kya; the dramatic fling of the opening door was Bumi.

Both of them had been worse for wear right along with her; Kya was limping on a crutch and Bumi sported a broken arm, leaving them both unable to bend…and no amount of water could fix a broken bone. Kya struggled to sit on the bed, attempting to make light and careful conversation; Bumi insisted on bolstering a tale of his days at sea, both of which she wasn't really up for, but she'd taken any distraction from the lingering pain.

They'd been hurt just as she had, so she felt she didn't deserve to self-loathe, but it was impossible to not to. Searing pain ricocheted through her nerves to remind her of her struggles; a pain that reminded her that she should've _died_. The thought made her lurch and contort uncomfortably in her wheelchair, twisting in a way that couldn't possibly be healthy. She went limp as she suddenly fell unconscious, the pain driving her into a temporary sleep to escape from it all. Bumi's tale was cut short as he was by her side in an instant, demanding to know the problem as he attempted to calm her down. Kya was doing something similar on the other side, beside herself with the fact that she couldn't heal her, even if she could bend.

_As they shake her and try and get her out of the abyss of pain much too soon, she waits._

. . .

_She waits. It's around the time her stomach begins to growl._

She wondered who would be there to bring her food today, and she was actually surprised to see Jinora. The young airbender was beautiful at her tattooing ceremony, garbed in a golden robe woven by Air Acolytes. Jinora was stoic as her father showered her with grateful words and praise, and the moment she was unhooded, revealing her stunning tattoos, there wasn't a lovelier girl in the world at that moment. The air swirled above her head, crafted by the world's newest airbenders, and with the eyes of her grandfather on her face as the ceremony commenced…it was almost like he'd been there to see it.

However, she had thought that Jinora had traveled off with her father to begin giving help to those that needed it, along with training any new airbenders. Seeing her flit into the room with her usual poise and a tray of food in her arms was incredibly unexpected…but it was welcome.

Jinora gently set the food into her lap and took a step back; Jinora knew she didn't like people feeding her, even though it was even hard to move her arms, although she could. She attempted light bites of her Sea Prunes, but it was hard to keep the spoon steady. Jinora flinched, fearing a radical outburst of fire that the Avatar was so normally prone to. But instead, she merely put the spoon back in the bowl and sighed, hanging her head almost limply in defeat.

Jinora had other places to be –new airbenders to welcome into the nation, for one- but seeing her friend so inspirited was nearly physically taxing to watch. Taking a deep breath, she glided over to the despairing female in the wheelchair, placing a hand on her shoulder. Jinora smiled somewhat sadly at her, before carefully picking up the spoon and holding out a bite.

_As Jinora assists her in a way that will stay secret between them, she waits. _

. . .

_She waits. It's a horrible day._

The whole building was abuzz with news of bandits attempting to ransack one of the Air Temples, so everyone was busy. She was left alone, with no one to immediately help her out…and she was left alone, unable to immediately help anyone. Everyone was completely in a tizzy, and the radios were always going, with someone always on alert. Everyone did their best to keep her updated on what was happening, but everything was happening so fast that no one had time to keep slipping into her room.

Until Lin of all people slipped in, scowling as per usual.

Lin was assertive and stern as always, marching into the room of the Avatar with heavy thuds in her footsteps. Her gaze was locked and dedicated as she reiterated what was happening, down straight to the detail and relaying exactly where everyone was to be at any given time. It was a fast and furious play by play of the day, but when Lin reached the end of the explanation, she gave the Avatar an effeminate punch in the shoulder -a hidden habit courtesy of her mother- and told her to keep hanging in there.

The visit had been concise and contrite, especially with Lin darting out the door like a madwoman after hearing that her sister was getting involved in the affair. Still, Lin had taken the time to demonstrate to the girl that she was just as important now as she was then; she was still the Avatar, and she still deserved to know what was up. Just that small act alone was enough to make the immobile Avatar feel slightly better, although she wished she could be in on the action too.

_As the Chief of Police makes her swinging exit, she waits._

. . .

_She waits. It feels like the days are getting longer and that she will never be ready again._

Asami arrived to talk, always offering her open ears and affinity for listening. Asami, as usual, was disappointed when she received a nonexistent response, only communicated with head bobs and half-hearted shrugs. It was a heartbreaking thing to witness, Asami trying so hard and yielding little results, but she refused to give up. She rebuilt Future Industries, she assisted in saving the Air Nation, she was even able to bring down her father when the moment called for it…!

Surely she could bring the Avatar out of her injury-induced funk…?

She twiddled her thumb in her wheelchair, not really thinking about much of anything at the moment as Asami lightly prodded at her for talk. Asami just wanted to hear her voice again; everyone did. Still, Asami didn't quite know how to begin a conversation with her; they'd talked about liking the same boy for Yue's sake, where do you build off from there? With the condition she was in now, Asami definitely didn't want to dredge up their breakup again…

But unable to find a place to get started, Asami merely sat on the bed and folded her hands in her lap, biting her lip and smudging her lipstick a bit. Miss Sato found herself thinking about when she first met the latest Avatar and how she was bit awkward in her house; how she was a terrible driver, how they didn't entirely see eye to eye at first considering their extensive differences, but recently they'd _finally_ been drawing closer.

Asami did her best to make the Avatar utterly elegant for Jinora's ceremony, but no matter how simply gorgeous Asami made her on the outside, there was nothing she could do to salvage the inside. She couldn't even put a bandage on that tattered soul, only able to try and glue it back together from the outside. Frankly, though, it was like trying to fix pieces of broken glass that were stuck inside an unbreakable shell.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Asami excused herself and bolted out of the room, makeup running as unanticipated tears soaked her face and left her a mess. She happened to run into Mako, gave him a heart-breaking shake of her head, and continued down the hallway, trying to do damage control to her face before anyone else could see.

Back in the room, she returned to staring out the window, ashamed for not having the words to speak up to Asami, but she just didn't have it in her. She wanted to, with every fiber in her being…but she couldn't do it. Had that will power truly been lost? How could she become so apathetic? She wasn't just hurting herself…she was hurting others, even if it was only in ways she was only aware of. …but that just made it hurt more.

_As the sun sets on that depressing day, she is assisted into her bed, and she waits. _

. . .

_She waits. It's a day where she doesn't want to get out of bed._

Her friends, family, and caretakers came and went that day, each of them giving her varying degrees of affection and attention, but just like times past nothing gets her to wake up. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't awake. She merely existed, contemplating her place in the world, and whether or not she needed that place at this point. Had Amon been right, and that the era of the Avatar would soon be over? Had Unalaq been right, and that a new era was on the verge of being ushered in? Had Zaheer been right, and was it for the best to leave people's problems in their own hands?

Such thoughts spun around in her head until late after dinner time. After Meelo departed with her dinner tray, a new face entered, one that she hadn't seen in days, but since she was busy staring at the ceiling, she only knew it was him because of the strange yet familiar silence. Mako had shifted into the room, strikingly silent, and merely pulled up a chair next to her bed. He didn't face her, didn't talk to her- just simply reveled in her company. She noticed him, but hardly acknowledged him…yet suddenly, the forlorn thoughts had vanished and were replaced by realizations.

He didn't add unintentional salt in the wound by being compared to the previous Avatar.

He understood what was happening with her and knew not to provoke anything.

He didn't try to force her into smiling when she didn't want to.

He didn't smother her with comforting words and uplifting quotes.

He didn't distract her in the slightest, whether she wanted it or not.

He didn't pity her weak state, and if he did, he made no notion to such.

He didn't remind her that the world was happening around her and that she wasn't a part of it at the moment.

But most importantly, he didn't try to get her to speak when she had run out of things to say so long ago.

He just let her be, which may have been just what she wanted…but it certainly wasn't what she needed.

Hearing light sniffling, Mako glanced slightly over to his right, noticing her lying still except for her face. It was twisted slightly, trying to hold in the sadness, but this was betrayed by the waterfalls of tears that flood onto the sheets of the pillow her head rested on. Mako knew she cried before, but it was noticeable then, and emotional, and always with good reason…he feared that this was just because things had gotten to be too much and no one could truly share the burden.

Respectfully wanting to give her some privacy, he rose from the chair, but not before stepping over her and wiping away a teardrop with a quick flick of his gloved hand. She remained still as she writhed soundlessly again in her quiet desolation, hating for him to see her like this. She hadn't been expecting him to place an instant and soft kiss on her forehead, before bidding her goodnight and sweeping out of the room.

Even as they broke up, they made it clear that they still had feelings for each other, but with so many bad things happening in the world, there wasn't enough time to work on _making_ it work. But knowing that even in her darkest hour that the care he had for her was still there…it was reassuring, yet she didn't know where she was supposed to go with it. She still felt empty, and she didn't know how to feel whole again.

_As she rests in bed with tears to keep her company, she waits._

. . .

She woke up one day with the sun shining into her window, as if it was telling her that enough was enough and that it was time to pull herself together. Problem was, she didn't know if all this was due to her own mental turmoil, or perhaps even a side effect of the poison…

But whatever the cause, one thing was clear; she need the time to heal, in every aspect of the word.

She had to wait for rejuvenation; she had to wait for the day to come that she could fight and help people again, but how long would that be, and how much different would the world be when she finally returned to it? Ba Sing Se was in shambles and who knew what other cities were following suit thanks to more potential Red Lotus members… she was forced to wait, but the world certainly couldn't wait for her, even if Tenzin, Jinora, Kai, Opal, and all the other airbenders did their best to quench the four nations' turmoil…

When would it be that she could break out of the prison that was her mind, and go back to being who she used to be? Was it even possible? As it was now, she had changed, without knowing whether she'd be able to change back…

Would she get better? Who knew; only time could tell. Life carried on, and whether it was carrying her along with it, she had no choice but to follow its designated path and let the journey cleanse her of the pain, so that one day she could be Avatar Korra again if the world needed her to…or to just be Korra, like she wanted to.

Thus, until then, when she heals and can fight physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually again; when she can stand tall and find a purpose in life again; when that answer decides to show itself and get Korra back on her feet to venture into the world she'd give her life to save…

…she will wait.


End file.
